


Injustice: War’s End

by MaskoftheRay



Series: Stars Innumerable and Hearts Incandescent [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Injustice: Gods Among Us, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Blood, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is a Good (Sort-Of) Parent, Dark Diana (Wonder Woman) - Freeform, Dark Superman, Dimension Travel, Dubious Morality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Gen, Graphic Violence, Heavy Angst, Hugs, Hurt Bruce Wayne, M/M, Men Crying, Protective Clark Kent, Sad Bruce Wayne, Spoilers for Injustice: Gods Among Us, Unrequited Love, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:40:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskoftheRay/pseuds/MaskoftheRay
Summary: When Kal-El escapes from prison, Supergirl sends Batman back to our world to ask for its Justice League’s assistance. Now having experienced both sides of inter-dimensional travel, Clark readily volunteers to help the Insurgency finally end Superman’s reign of terror. But this time, Diana— who has neither seen the other dimension nor encountered her alternate— is coming with them. And when the Trinity are in the same dimension, fighting themselves, something dramatic is bound to happen.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Kal-El (Injustice), Bruce Wayne & Kara Zor-El, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Clark Kent, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Diana (Wonder Woman), Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne, Harleen Quinzel & Bruce Wayne, Kara Zor-El & Kara Zor-El, One sided Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Other Relationships
Series: Stars Innumerable and Hearts Incandescent [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462117
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Injustice: War’s End

**Two months ago:**

“Wait!” Kal-El called. _I have to make him **understand**_. Clark stopped and turned. Kal peered up at him with hard eyes. “When it happens to you— and it _will_ — I hope you have people there to support you.” This time, it was Clark who gave the cool look.

“I hope so too, Kal. In fact— if I _ever_ come close to doing what you did— I pray that Bruce will be there to stop me,” his alternate said coldly. Then he turned and walked away. Superman seethed, beginning to pace. When he was sure that Bruce and his entourage of traitorous Kryptonians were gone, he sank onto the bed and began to think _. I should have killed Batman from the start_.

 _Yes, that was what I should have done_ , Kal mused. But he hadn’t because he’d been a fool. A damn fool who had believed that his best friend would understand his loss. His grief. His pain. More than anyone else, Kal-El had expected Bruce Wayne to comprehend and empathize with how one’s whole world could be lost in an instant. But he hadn’t.

Instead, Bruce had looked at Superman blankly as if _he_ were a monster. Like Kal-El himself hadn’t once stopped Bruce from murdering the clown (oh, how he regretted that now) when Jason— but this was neither here nor there. And look what had happened after that. Bruce had betrayed him. Utterly. He’d been a fool for ~~hoping~~ believing that Batman would take another course of action.

And now, he had _aged_. Actually aged. The Kryptonian could almost feel it— his cells weakening, withering, decaying slowly. Dying. The sick muteness of the world, the bone-heavy _wrongness_ of Earth’s gravity, the ashen dullness of his sustenance. Kal despised it all and he _hated_ orange. Seeing the other Superman brought into stark clarity just how far he had fallen. He was meant for more— meant to _save_ this sick, ravaged world. Jor-El had been right that he owed his help to this place. Only the Earth’s people were too foolish to realize it. That was something neither of them had accounted for, and he now realized, the thing that had allowed Batman to stop him.

 _And he will pay_ , Kal-El determined, staring wrathfully at the blank concrete wall across from his bed. He grimly imagined the concrete melting. Smoking. Turning into a red-hot puddle on the floor. He substituted Batman’s smug, self-righteous face for the concrete and smiled. _Bruce will pay for every year that I have rotted here, every line added to my face— someday_.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

**Now:**

“Go, Bruce!” Kara shouted, floating upwards rapidly.

He growled as the Cave shook again and wiped the sweat from his brow. Behind them, the portal hummed gently. Bruce shifted and a jolt of pain ran through his broken arm. “I can’t just leave you here, Kara. Last time, he wasn’t _trying_ to fight you. I can’t—”

Supergirl landed abruptly. The impact of her boots cracked the stone floor. “You _have_ to,” she said firmly, striding forward. Then Kara placed a hand on his shoulder. “This is my fight too, Batman. Now go!”

Bruce swallowed once, then nodded. “Alright. But I’m coming back, Kara, and I’ll bring help when I do,” he promised. The teen smiled, turning her head sharply as the Cave shook again. Bruce sucked in a breath, studying her profile for a moment. _Please let her live_ , he thought at the universe. _Just this once, don’t let me have to look back on this moment to remember her_. He pulled on the cowl, tucked his left gauntlet under his arm, and stepped through the portal. He did not look back.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Dick was in the Batcave fooling around on the pommel horse when everything went to hell.

One instant things were normal, and then very much not. He’d been showing Damian (who had the day off from school) how to do a one-handed handstand when the portal appeared with a loud _boom_ and a great burst of wind, sending the papers from the nearby desk flying. He dismounted awkwardly, already tensed for action. Damian was also ready, holding his katana aloft. “Go, Robin!” Dick ordered.

“But Nightwing, I cannot simply—”

“ _Go_ ,” Dick insisted, raising his voice above the Cave’s security alert. “Call Bruce. Protect Alfred.” His youngest brother hesitated for a half-second longer, then nodded, sprinting up the stairs. Dick let out one small sigh of relief, squared his shoulders, and crept forward. _Right. Time to see who our intruder is_. He pulled down his mask and held his escrima sticks up.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

The Cave was breathtakingly familiar, except for all the ways it was not.

This Bruce _did_ have more people; it seemed he’d been right the last time he ended up here. Bruce could tell from the items scattered around and from how things weren’t stored as precisely as he had them in his own Batcave. It was easier to stay organized when only one (or sometimes two) people used a space, after all. He swallowed. At the very faint sound of footsteps, he looked up.

“Wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing here— _Batman_?”

Bruce felt as if his heart had stopped because of the unpleasant jolt that ran through him at those words. “Dick,” he whispered aloud, without conscious permission from his brain. The young man— _his son_ — blinked and shuffled back a bit. Then his face settled beneath the domino mask and he scowled.

“Yeah, that’s me, _Bruce_. But I don’t know you. Why are you here?” Nightwing asked. Bruce raised his good arm to take off the cowl, but, quick as a snake, Dick pressed the electrified end of his escrima forward until it was mere inches from the exposed skin of Batman’s jaw. “No sudden movements, please.”

He sighed, feeling proud despite the inconvenience. “I was just going to remove the cowl, Nightwing. Do you mind if we sit down?” He glanced down at his broken arm and Dick’s cool expression wavered when he saw it. _Always such a bleeding heart_ , Bruce thought wistfully. _My boy_.

“Fine. But if you try anything, I _will_ zap you.”

“Understood.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

He was in the middle of a board meeting when his secretary poked her head through the door, waving frantically with her cell phone-holding hand. That was _his_ cell phone. Bruce blinked, subtly raising an eyebrow at her. ‘Damian’ she mouthed. A jolt of alarm ran through him. _Damian is with Dick. He shouldn’t be—_ if his youngest son were calling him, nothing good could be happening. He lurched to his feet and his CFO cut off his presentation.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said stiffly, “but my son is calling— please continue without me. I’ll catch up on the proceedings later.” He spared a moment to meet Lucius’ eyes. The other man nodded. Bruce turned and marched to the conference room door, already reaching for his phone. He smiled at his secretary briefly before holding the device up to his ear. “Yes, Damian?”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Dick asked coolly, for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. After their standoff ended, he’d allowed Bruce to remove the cowl and sit at the desk chair. He’d also offered pain-killers, but Bruce refused them. He’d suffered worse than a broken arm before, so while it _was_ painful it could wait.

Bruce tapped his foot again and huffed softly. “I told you already, Dick, you won’t believe me. I’ll wait.”

Dick sighed. He uncrossed his arms and moved forward. Stopped. Ran a hand through his hair.

Bruce shifted, wincing slightly as his broken arm throbbed. _Fuck, this is taking too long_. He couldn’t help but grimace. His grip on the chair’s arm tightened as he thought again about Kara facing off against Kal-El alone. She was good— very good— as well as intelligent, and had been training dedicatedly, but still… Supergirl was neither fully grown nor as experienced as her cousin. Her only saving grace would be that Kal was out of practice after years under the prison’s red sun lights. _But it all depends on how much **help** Superman has_. Bruce frowned again.

Nightwing muttered something to himself and edged closer. He cleared his throat. “What’s going on?” he repeated, in a _much_ more authoritative tone than Bruce was used to hearing.

He blinked, releasing his grip on the chair. “It’s… complicated. Superman—”

“Dick! Get away from him.”

Dick and Bruce jumped at the familiar snap of Bruce’s voice.

Bruce Wayne, still dressed in a full suit and tie, strode towards the Batcomputer, scowling at his eldest son. He glanced at Batman and his eyes lingered on his exposed left arm. “Who are you and what do you want?”

Despite himself, Bruce felt relieved. _Finally, someone who understands_. “It’s me,” he said. “Clark must have told you about coming over to my world, meeting his cousin, Kara Zor-El?”

“He did. Why are you here?” Batman asked.

Bruce frowned again, then swallowed. “I need your help. Kal-El escaped,” he admitted gruffly.

His alternate’s silence was telling, as was the way his posture stiffened slightly. Dick, nearly forgotten during the exchange, glanced between them. “I’m missing something, aren’t I? Bruce— Dad— what’s going on?”

Acting on instinct, Bruce turned towards Dick, mouth opening to offer an explanation. Then he realized: _Dick isn’t talking to me_. He shut his mouth with a slightly-pained sound. Other-Bruce glanced at him and a bit of sympathy shone through his expression. Right. He knew. Bruce swallowed. “It’s complicated, Dick. Bruce— Bat— _your father_ can explain later. I need to see your league.”

His alternate nodded, shooting a quelling look at Nightwing when he protested. “I’ll call a meeting. Dick, see what you can do about his arm in the meantime. I’ll be back shortly.”

Dick sighed. “Typical,” he grumbled. Then, more loudly: “Alright, let’s get a sling on that arm, B.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“Clark.”

“Bruce,” Superman replied, swallowing nervously. _He remembers_. Bruce tried not to let his pulse hammer like it wanted to. “I wasn’t expecting to see you…” _again_.

He sighed, pausing just outside the Watchtower’s Conference Room door. Batman— Other-Bruce— was prepping the rest of the league. _I don’t have time for this_ , he thought again. But there was really nothing else he could do. “I hadn’t planned on it. I’m sure Batman has told you about what’s going on?”

Superman nodded, frowning. Bruce’s pulse lurched for a moment. He gnashed his teeth and gave a small shake of his head when Clark looked at him enquiringly. Thankfully, the Kryptonian took his cue. “Yes, he did. How did Kal—”

“It doesn’t matter. Diana, I believe. But I have to get back and I need—”

The door opened. Batman stuck his head out. “They’re ready.” Clark and Bruce looked up at his impassive face and followed him into the room. Bruce took the extra chair that had been added to the strikingly-familiar table. He sat beside Batman. Superman sat across from him, Wonder Woman to his right. Unexpectedly, there was a blonde teen— who looked strikingly like Kara— seated at the other end of the table. _So he found a Supergirl after all_.

“Well this is a surprise,” Green Arrow said lightly. There was scattered murmuring after that, apparently in agreement.

Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. “As I’m sure Batman has brought you all up to speed, I’ll get straight to the point: I need your help. Superman has escaped and Supergirl will only be able to subdue him for so long, depending on who he has working with him. I need a team to help me stop Kal-El and his co-conspirators. I need another to reconstruct this device—” Bruce set the flash drive with the portal’s blueprints on the table— “as soon as possible.” He couldn’t help but briefly inspect Supergirl’s expression. She looked carefully neutral, but there was still a hint of troubledness in her eyes.

“I’ll go.” Bruce’s gaze snapped to Superman, his raised hand. An unpleasantly warm feeling spread through his chest.

“There will be kryptonite. Most people won’t realize that you aren’t _him_.”

“I understand, Batman.”

“If you’re going, then I am too,” Other-Bruce said firmly. He exchanged a quelling look with Clark. Bruce’s chest ached. The room fell silent again.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Kara— Supergirl—” Bruce and Superman began.

“As am I,” Wonder Woman said firmly.

The three men blinked.

“Uh, not to be _that guy_ , but— we’re really just… buying his story?” Green Lantern asked.

Bruce ground his teeth and breathed out in a hiss but said nothing. How could he? If he were in Lantern’s shoes, he’d wonder the same thing.

“Ordinarily, I’d agree with you, Lantern… as much as that statement alarms me,” Batman said coolly. “But if Kal-El has escaped then the situation is quite urgent. I am willing to believe Batman.”

“If you say so, Spooky,” Hal replied doubtfully after a brief silence.

“I can start working on a portal device,” Victor offered. “I’ll talk to The Atom too.”

“I’ll help you, Victor,” Flash added.

“I will watch over Earth in your absence,” Martian Manhunter said.

“I too shall safeguard our world,” Aquaman added.

The meeting concluded after that and most of the other leaguers filed out of the room, save for Barry, Victor, and Kara Zor-El.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

He was not optimistic about what they’d find once they were through the portal. Bruce had also tried his best to explain the machine’s workings. While everyone seemed to understand, there was always an element of chance with such technology. That was a risk he didn’t like.

After some consideration, he’d decided to take them to what had been the Insurgency’s main bunker during the war. To date, only a few outside their group knew about it and Bruce was hoping that this was still the case. If things back home hadn’t already ended in total catastrophe, there might even be people waiting for him there. But Bruce did not like to rely on hope, so he didn’t allow himself to believe that Kara or anyone else would be waiting.

Another problem was transporting so many people— five total— all to the same, specific location. So he had volunteered to go first.

“Bruce?”

He blinked, looking around. _Kara_. He blinked again, feeling quite shocked despite himself. “Kara? How—” The portal activated again and Superman stepped through. What little activity had still been going on came to an abrupt halt. “He’s with us,” Bruce said, pitching his voice loud enough to carry some distance. Several people muttered, but most warily resumed their work.

Kara’s gaze flickered to Clark, a hint of unease in her blue eyes. “I’ll tell you later. It’s… complicated. Are any more people coming?”

As she finished speaking, the portal activated again, revealing Supergirl. Kara blinked. Supergirl looked surprised too. Despite the situation, he had to hide a smile. Then Diana appeared. Kara flinched. Wonder Woman’s gaze sharpened, having not missed that tell. Bruce grimaced. “That’s everyone. Now, why don’t you fill us in, Kara?”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“I was lucky. Black Canary was up in the Watchtower doing maintenance when the break-out happened. She tried to figure out where everyone was going and managed to teleport me and several others out of Gotham before things got too bad… I think the Cave’s pretty much destroyed, though.”

Bruce frowned. _Not good, but also not unexpected_. He briefly met Batman’s gaze. “A foreseeable loss. Go on.”

Kara exhaled shakily. “Well, then I was here alone. But I knew I couldn’t just go back out there, being a _persona non grata_ and all. So I waited. Eventually other people started showing up. Flash evidently heard about what was going on and decided to spread the word. He’s here too. So is Hal. I—” Kara hesitated, looking upset— “I don’t know where Dinah is, though. Or Harley.”

He pursed his lips, contemplating the less than stellar news. “I see.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Later, he found Diana in the War Room watching footage from the prison break. As he walked in, Bruce couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d already viewed it. He cleared his throat. Diana paused, screen frozen on an image of this world’s Wonder Woman as she leapt through a large hole in the prison’s wall, sword drawn, shield held aloft. Her face looked like some ancient depiction of wrath or perhaps one of the Furies. It was an alarming expression to see on Diana’s face.

Bruce was abruptly reminded that of the three of them, Diana alone had never met her alternate. That as the paragon of Truth and Justice, it must have disturbed her to see herself perverted so greatly. “How many times have you watched this, Diana?”

“Enough,” she replied simply.

Bruce slowly walked around the table, picked up the remote, and pressed its power button. Diana neither thanked him for this nor said anything else. A small pang of worry ran through him. Well accustomed to his emotions, Diana picked up on this. “I’m fine, Bruce, merely troubled by my other-self’s actions. They seem— unlikely, I suppose.”

 _It disturbs_ _me_ , he filled in. Diana was no coward, but she confronted fear differently than he did. “I see,” Bruce acknowledged simply, thinking of what he could say. He was not a naturally comforting person.

Diana smiled, some mischief entering her blue gaze. It was relieving. “Don’t use up all your emotional openness on me, Batman. What if Clark needs some later?” With that, she tugged him close and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Bruce grumbled, but allowed it— what could he really do against the Amazon? A moment later, she released him, and they left the empty room together.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Bruce and Batman were in the makeshift cafeteria grabbing coffee when they were alerted to the commotion. “Someone’s trying to get into the bunker!” a soldier shouted, running up to their table and skidding to a halt in front of it. Bruce was dressed in jeans and a black turtleneck sweater (dampener beneath it), one sleeve bulging over his casted arm. Both men stood at the announcement and followed the soldier to the bunker’s entrance.

As they reached it, the ground shook with another muffled explosion. Bruce stumbled slightly but was steadied by Clark. His heartbeat lurched and Superman released him hastily. Bruce stepped away from him and approached Supergirl, who was hovering in front of the door. “What’s going on?”

Lips pursed, Kara turned slightly and met his gaze. “Grenades… a lot of them.”

“‘Grenades?’” he repeated, brow furrowing. “That type of explosive won’t work on a _bunker_. For someone to think it would, they’d have to be—” Bruce cut himself off. _Crazy_ , he finished mentally. Without looking back at a very confused-looking Kara, he strode over to the Insurgency-member standing by the door access panel. “Open the door.”

“Sir?”

“I know who it is. Open the door, and everyone get back.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

As soon as the doors showed signs of moving, the explosions stopped. But the chaos didn’t. Batman strode over to Bruce, followed by three (literally _and_ figuratively) hovering Kryptonians, as well as the other world’s Wonder Woman. “What are you doing?” Batman demanded harshly, stepping into Bruce’s personal space. He deeply regretted that his left arm was broken, preventing Bruce from shoving himself— well, his alternate— away.

“Letting our allies inside,” he replied calmly, side-stepping a seething Batman.

Clark caught his good arm. Every Insurgency-member present tensed and Superman quickly let Bruce go. He did not, however, lose his concerned expression or touch back down on the floor. “What if you’re wrong?”

Bruce smirked. “I’m not. But just in case, that’s what we have three Kryptonians and an Amazon for.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“Batsy! It’s good to see ya.”

“Harley. Care to explain why you’re destroying Insurgency property?”

Harley laughed, waving him off. “You’re funny, B-man. I was only tryin’ to get your attention.”

Bruce sighed, bringing his undamaged hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Well you have it now. What do you want?”

Harley lost some of her cheeriness. “Me an’ Canary and Zatanna was wonderin’ if you had room for three more. A simple yes or no would do— and quickly if you don’t mind, ’cause Dinah’s hurt. Z too.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Bruce sent both Karas out, fearing that things would end in violence if he sent Clark or Diana. As soon as the three were no longer visible, he walked over to where Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman were gathered. They looked at him insistently. Batman especially so. “I’ve sent Supergirl— and Kara— to retrieve Black Canary and Zatanna. Harley said they were hurt,” he explained briefly.

“Harley Quinn,” Batman said stiffly.

“Yes. That won’t be a problem, will it?” Bruce asked, fixing him with a look.

Batman’s jaw clenched. “No.”

Superman glanced worriedly between them. “If that’s settled… do they know about—”

“Brucie, get back, that’s _Superman_!” Harley stepped away from the Karas, one of whom was holding an unconscious Black Canary, the other leading a dazed-looking Zatanna inside, mallet raised.

“Harley, no!” Bruce exclaimed, stepping forward to interfere, broken arm be damned.

But it was too late.

The ex-criminal clown dodged him and hit Clark in the gut with her mallet. Superman, who’d been frozen in shock, took the hit. Unexpectedly (for him), he went flying and hit the opposite wall with a thud. Batman stepped forward then and pushed Bruce aside. He quickly disarmed Harley. It was an easier process than normal because she seemed very confused, head swiveling rapidly from the Kryptonian to Batman and back. “Did I eat somethin’ funny or are there really two of you? And why is _he_ here?”

She reached her free hand up to poke Batman’s masked nose, but he snarled and caught her wrist. “ _Don’t_.” Then he turned to Bruce, gaze narrowed, and demanded, “Care to explain how she did that?”

Bruce sighed. “Only after you let her go and if Harley promises not to hit anyone else.”

“If you _really_ mean it, B-man, then I won’t. Pinky promise.”

“… Fine.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Dinah had evidently run into Cyborg on the Watchtower. Although she was a very skilled combatant, using her Canary Cry aboard the satellite was a risky maneuver. That had put her at a disadvantage against Victor. So she’s taken a fair bit of damage before managing to escape. Zatanna and Harley ran into each other while trying to get to Wayne manor to help in the fight and had subsequently bumped into Dinah. Unfortunately for them, Kal-El had thought ahead and ordered Wonder Woman to patrol the city in hopes of being able to capture former Insurgency-members. Zatanna had depleted herself in the fight, but not enough to be entirely without magic. She’d been able to transport the three of them far enough away for Harley to get them to safety.

“And how did you do that?” Batman asked skeptically.

“Easy-peasy!” Harley exclaimed, taking a sip of the Diet Coke she’d requested. “I stole a van an’ drove until Z recovered enough to zap us here!” She frowned suddenly and sat up, pushing her half-empty glass away. “Now I think it’s your turn to do some explainin,’ Batsy. Or should I call _you_ Batty? B-man gets nickname dibs ’cause he was here first and all…”

Other-Bruce sighed, but between him, Bruce, and the other heroes their side of the story was revealed.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Unsurprisingly, Kal-El used Cyborg to hack the global communications system. Brother Eye tried valiantly to keep him out, but in the end, the A.I. was no match for Cyborg’s Apokoliptian technology. Although Bruce was annoyed at his system’s failure, the situation was not entirely a bad one. He could analyze how Victor had overpowered Brother Eye later and fix the A.I.’s weaknesses. From his broadcast’s background, it appeared that the Kryptonian had retaken the Fortress of Solitude. Or at least that he wanted Bruce and his allies to think he had. Bruce wasn’t sure.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Batman frown. As Kal-El began to speak, however, Bruce returned his attention to the computer screen. Despite himself, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the arrogant expression on Superman’s face. “Greetings, citizens. I am reactivating the One Earth Government. If you cooperate, the transition of power will be smooth and painless for all involved— otherwise…” The Kryptonian floated up from his chair, eyes glowing menacingly. “This is your warning that resistance _will not be tolerated_.”

He sat down abruptly, resuming the calm façade. “Your daily lives will not be disturbed. I have also considered your earlier… feedback. I promise that the new government _will_ be better if you only allow me to make it so.” Kal offered a slightly apologetic, conciliatory smile. It almost made Bruce suck in a breath. _That was so like **Clark**_. Beside him, Batman stiffened, clearly underprepared to see his friend— this version of him— acting so manipulatively.

“Now for some less _pleasant_ on-goings,” Superman continued. He looked placatingly into the camera. “Batman and any other former members of the so-called Insurgency who may be listening to this: if you regroup, the government _will_ prosecute you to the furthest extent of the law. But what is justice without the possibility of redemption? Clemency will be granted if you turn yourselves in. Of course, anyone who has information about the whereabouts of Bruce Wayne will be rewarded. Thank you.”

The screen briefly faded to black, then its previous display flickered on. Batman glanced at him. “It seems that you’ve made yourself an even hotter commodity than I’ve managed to.”

“Hmm,” Bruce agreed. _I wish I hadn’t_.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“You’re spreading us too thin,” Batman said, with the air of someone pointing out the obvious.

“Do you have a _better_ idea?” Bruce asked snappishly.

“This is weird,” Clark muttered, glancing at Diana. She seemed to be as caught up in the argument as he was. Bruce and Bruce were locked in a staring match, jaws clenching identically. As they continued watching, both men’s eyebrows arched in a display of contempt. The four of them were gathered in the War Room, attempting to devise a plan that they’d workshop at the Insurgency leadership’s next meeting.

“Do you think that they are mimicking one another on purpose?” Diana murmured.

Clark blinked, unsure about that himself. “No?”

Just as Diana was about to reply, a chair scraped loudly against the ground. “ _Don’t_ patronize me!”

“Come up with a better plan and I’ll consider it,” their Bruce replied curtly.

 _Uh oh_ , Clark thought, _that’s his prissy voice_. “Bruce!” he called.

“What?” both men snapped, turning to glare at him simultaneously.

Clark shuddered, taking an involuntary step back. Then he shook his head and steadied his nerves. “Maybe you— _we_ — should take a break?”

“Do _you_ have a plan then?” Batman asked.

Bruce also looked annoyed. “Much as I hate to admit it, Ka— _Clark_ , he’s right. If we spread ourselves too thin we’ll be easy pickings for the Regime. I can’t allow that to happen.”

“Then walk us through the current plan again. Maybe we can think of something together,” Diana suggested.

Bruce sighed, then looked to his alternate. They stared intently at one another.

“Fine,” Batman agreed finally.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

A few days after the broadcast and their smaller strategizing session, the Insurgency’s leadership convened in the War Room to go over their plan. The people gathered were Green Lantern, Flash, Supergirl, Kara, Kate, Clark, Diana, Bruce, Batman, Dinah, Zatanna, and Harley. Anyone else not present was either busy fulfilling their duties, missing, dead, or not coming back. Thankfully, none of the new members asked about the empty chairs.

When everyone had quieted, Bruce outlined their strategy. “Our goal is to neutralize Kal-El and his allies. They’ll be looking to break out as many of their people as possible. But with Superman’s messaging about his improved One Earth government, I believe that they’ll try to limit battle damage. We can use that to our advantage. The Regime’s targets will most likely be Gotham, Metropolis, the Fortress, and D.C. There’s also the Watchtower. Although we’ll be spread thin they will be too, so we’ll divide ourselves into teams. While we have a decent supply of super pills stored here, they’ll still need to be used sparingly.

Dinah, Harley, and Kate will go to Gotham to take back Brother Eye and get a broadcast out. If that can’t be done, they’ll destroy the A.I. Harley’s clown force with work with them. Hal, Barry, and some of our fighters will go to Metropolis; they’ll be in charge of the city as well as the prison. Diana and the Amazons will take D.C. Zatanna, Kara’s alternate, and Batman will go to the Fortress. Any questions?”

The room was silent for a moment as everyone considered the plan.

“What about Clark and I?” Kara asked.

Bruce was about to answer, but Batman spoke first: “You and Superman will take back Watchtower then remain on stand-by. If any of the teams need assistance, you’ll step in.” Kara frowned, looking frustrated and hurt. Her gaze bore into Bruce, but he carefully avoided it and made a mental note to speak with her later.

“I also have some questions,” Green Lantern drawled.

Batman’s gloved hands fisted briefly and Bruce’s jaw clenched. “What?” he asked.

Hal’s gaze shifted down to his broken arm then back up to Bruce’s carefully blank gaze. “One: you have broken arm, in case anyone hadn’t noticed that yet. Two: no one’s said anything about the big bad Kryptonian himself. Three: when are we doing this?”

Bruce exhaled sharply, but otherwise maintained his calm. “Zatanna and I are working on the arm; I’ll be fully-functional before the battle. We’ll strike two days from now. As soon as the Gotham team acts, Superman’s people will be drawn out. As for your third point, Lantern: _I’ll_ be taking care of Kal-El. Do you have any other questions?” The two men locked eyes for a tense moment.

Hal’s shoulders stiffened and his lips pursed. “No,” he said finally.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Bruce wasn’t prone to pity. Empathy, sure. He’d have to have at least some of it to patrol Gotham night after night, accumulating bruises, wounds, and scars. But pity— _true_ pity— happened more rarely. Mostly because he only made a brief difference in the lives of those he saved. But this case— Other-Bruce— was different. He felt for him.

Of course, he’d known that things were bad here: he had _lived_ it for three months, after all. But seeing Kal-El’s speech, addressed to a regular audience and not in any way played up for Batman, drove home just how much he’d changed. Oh, there were hints of Clark Kent still (that ‘aw shucks’ smile he’d worn), but they only served to emphasize the difference. Clark Kent had never been so calculating, for one. Or manipulative. Or dangerous.

He also pitied his alternate for the way people interacted with _him_ as they prepared for battle. Bruce constantly forgot about not going outside— this Superman still knew his heartbeat, after all— and various veteran members of the Insurgency kept giving him strange looks as he approached the bunker door, only to remember where he was and how he was constricted. This alone soon proved to be annoying.

Bruce also found that, while _everyone_ knew his identity here (and wasn’t _that_ unpleasant), he had never felt less known, aside from those who had come here with him. It seemed that his early efforts to craft a persona, a mythos around the Bat, had been taken even further by this Bruce.

Although it was subtle and perhaps now unnoticed by his alternate, the berth of space Other-Bruce received was… alarming. Bruce was not a _social_ person, yet the way everyone seemed to distance themselves from him made the solitude more apparent. Bruce could imagine how he’d react if placed in a situation like this Batman’s. The outcome of such pondering was unpleasant.

Bruce also knew how Alfred must feel watching him venture out on another seemingly impossible mission. With only days left before their strike, Bruce felt nervous. Tense. Worried. _What a fucking mess_. He sighed and looked down at the space below.

Like any bunker, it was utilitarian— all sharp edges, cool tones, and cold steel. It was also full of supplies, furniture, electronics, even vehicles. But it was almost never quiet, except for at night and Bruce found that the longer they stayed here, the worse he slept. This place was like a Scarecrow-induced vision. “Fuck.”

“Ah, there you are.” Bruce’s head jerked up and he sucked in a breath. It was a sign of his tiredness that he had missed Clark’s arrival— like him, Superman was making himself scarce, if for different reasons... Mostly that his face unnerved nearly everyone around them, so they’d mutually decided that it’d be best for him to keep a low profile until necessity dictated otherwise.

“Clark,” he said evenly.

The Kryptonian floated upwards, crossing his legs. Despite everything, this made Bruce smile. “What are you doing up here, Bruce?”

“Thought I’d try roosting since it seems to work so well for the bats.”

“Ha,” Clark replied humorlessly. He exhaled slowly and rubbed at his hair. “Mind if I join you?”

“Fine.” _There’s really no stopping him if he’s determined_. Bruce grimaced at that thought. _Not the meaning I intended it to have, not here…_

“What’s wrong?” the weight of Clark’s hand on his shoulder jolted Bruce from his thoughts.

He leaned against a crossbeam and sighed again. “I don’t see this ending well.”

Clark was quiet for a moment, pointedly leaving his hand in place on Bruce’s shoulder. Then the Kryptonian sighed and laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, I imagine that this has been… a _weird_ experience for you too. If for different reasons than mine.”

Bruce swallowed, expression part-smile, more grimace. “Yes, it has. I— ” he cut himself off, not quite sure how to say, ‘I see why you worry about me now’ without sounding pathetic. Clark cocked his head curiously. Bruce frowned at the dark space around them. “You’ve always said that I have a tendency to be self-sacrificing.”

“Ah.”

“Keep an eye on him.”

“I will.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“Kara,” he said quietly. When there was no reply, Bruce brought his fist up to knock on the door. Before he could, it opened and Kara poked her head out. Her eyes were narrowed, brow pinched in frustration, hurt, anger, or some combination of the three.

“What do you want, _Batman_?” she asked petulantly.

He stood there awkwardly for a moment, surprised at the display of teenage pique. _I forget how young she is_. “May I come in?”

“Fine.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

The young Kryptonian shoved aside several items on her desk, then pulled the chair out for him. It didn’t escape Bruce’s notice how she eyed his broken arm worriedly. He sat, waiting for Kara to sit too. She settled into a cross-legged position on the bed, avoiding his gaze for several minutes. Then she sighed and looked up, eyes searching. “I don’t understand why you’re holding me back, Bruce. Do you think that I can’t handle myself?”

He felt his throat constrict in response to the question, and for a moment saw Dick’s upset face superimposed over Kara’s. Dick had asked him that same question numerous times throughout his teenage years, but Bruce had never found an adequate way to explain his reasoning. Especially since they had both known how capable of a field operative Robin— later Nightwing— was. Bruce sighed, rubbing at his eyes. While it wasn’t very late, he was tired. Very, very tired.

“I know what you’re capable of, Kara. But I just— worry. While you can protect yourself, I don’t want you to _have_ to,” Bruce explained gruffly. _I never wanted Dick, Jason, Tim, or Damian to have to either… and look how that turned out_. “You may have a part in this fight, Kara, but Kal-El is _my_ responsibility.”

A mix of emotions flitted across the young Kryptonian’s face before an expression of anger and sadness settled in. Kara smiled bittersweetly and Bruce did his best to return it, albeit awkwardly. “As long as you don’t doubt me, I suppose I can play back-up a little while longer.” He nodded gratefully, then stood, having nothing more to say. But Kara spoke again suddenly as he reached the door: “You know that I worry too, right?”

Bruce paused. “I know.” Then he stepped through the door and walked away.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“How is she?” Bruce stilled suddenly, alarmed by the unexpected question. “Sorry!” Clark exclaimed, appearing out of the shadows. He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was just—”

“In the area and couldn’t help but overhear,” Bruce muttered, sending him a soft look. Batman and Bruce Wayne had both been used to hearing that response. After a moment, he caught himself, and his expression cooled. Superman finally touched down on the floor.

They stood there silently and looked past one another, both lost in thought. Then Clark sighed. “Have anywhere you need to be?”

“Not at the moment.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

The cafeteria was nearly empty this time of night and the few stragglers cleared out when Bruce and Superman strode through the door, shoulder-to-shoulder, apparently deep in conversation. Neither man let on if they noticed this. Bruce chose a table while Clark got them refreshments; a hot chocolate for himself and tea for Bruce. Then he sat, brushing his cape out of the way. They turned their attention to their respective beverages for a moment before setting them down. Bruce observed the silent room and Clark everything else.

“How are you feeling?” Superman asked finally, trying not to listen too closely as his friend’s pulse spiked and he swallowed nervously.

“How do you think?” Bruce muttered, taking another sip of tea. He turned away from the Kryptonian, grip on the mug tightening. Clark sighed and hesitantly reached across the table to place a hand on Bruce’s casted arm. Bruce glanced up at him momentarily in surprise before his gaze drifted to the hand on his arm. “I’m sorry you had to get involved in this. I wouldn’t have asked it if I’d had another choice.”

He blinked, somehow still surprised by Bruce’s ability to be so emotionally thick— even other versions of him, apparently. “I got involved the minute my Br— Batman was brought here. And I was never _not_ going to help you if I could.” Clark smiled, ignoring the responding shift in the other man’s hormones, the uptick in his heartbeat.

Bruce, evidently, was trying to do the same because he cleared his throat and slowly pulled his arm away, gaze fixed on the door. “Thank you.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~~**

The bunker resembled a flooding ant colony as they prepared for the strike. Various vehicles, stacks of weapons, armor, and other supplies were loaded up for their deployment tomorrow. The War Room, although less out-right frantic, was filled with tense energy as those gathered in it poured over various pieces of data and discussed tactics. Missing from it were Bruce, Clark, Kara, and Zatanna.

They were in the medical wing. It was finally time for Zatanna to fix Bruce’s broken arm.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“As soon as you hear the Gotham team arrive, I need you to take the Watchtower so we can use the teleporters,” Bruce said through gritted teeth as Zatanna held his broken limb still and muttered a spell over it. Both Kryptonians looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Kara a bit nauseated.

“Any idea of how many people there’ll be?” Clark asked.

“No…” Bruce exhaled slowly as the chanting increased in volume. “We’ve only confirmed Cyborg’s presence. I’m sure it’s nothing you two can’t handle, but don’t— take any… stupid risks either.” Zatanna blinked, sighing a bit shakily as the glow around Bruce’s arm disappeared and she stopped chanting. He flexed his fingers, nodding gratefully at the magician.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

After Zatanna portaled the Gotham team, it was only a matter of waiting. Bruce, fully suited up, stayed in the War Room, listening to the initial reports coming from his home city as well as communications between the friendly Kryptonians as they began sending teams out, having successfully recaptured the Watchtower. He kept his breathing controlled and tried not to let himself worry. _There’s nothing more you can do except finish it_. At this point, the plan would either work… or it wouldn’t.

“— come in. Come in, Batman. Kal-El has been spotted in Gotham.”

Bruce stood, pulled on his kryptonite knuckles, and swallowed his super pill. He took one breath and replied, “Copy that. Standing by for teleportation, Superman.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

He blinked, momentarily dazzled by the bright, gray light. Bruce straightened up, grapple gun and kryptonite batarang at the ready. A quick glance at his surroundings revealed that he was at the docks. Batman looked up sharply as the sound of a cape fluttering caught his attention. He tilted his neck to get better visibility. “Kal-El,” he greeted calmly. 

“Batman,” the Kryptonian said disapprovingly.

Ignoring his growing irritation, Bruce warned, “I’m only going to say this once: surrender. You can’t win this, Kal.”

Superman floated higher above Batman. He crossed his arms and sneered menacingly. “You really believe you can beat me still? I’ve had a lot of time to think since you put me in that hell you call a prison, Bruce. I’ve _learned_ from my mistakes. Have you?” The Kryptonian laughed coldly. “It doesn’t seem like it since I keep slipping through your grasp.”

Batman ignored the jab. “I don’t know, Kal. This seems like a very _familiar_ scenario to me, and I think we both remember what happened last time.” Lightning-quick, he hurled a kryptonite batarang at Superman. He mostly managed to dodge the weapon, although a thin slice appeared on Kal’s cheek. He landed, a bit off-balance, and took a moment to wipe a thumb across the wound, blood smearing over his thumb.

That was all the time Batman needed to strike.

“This is going to end in one way, and in one way only, Superman,” he said between hits, grunting as the Kryptonian’s fists connected with his torso. The blows sent him stumbling back a few feet. But he got back up, determined. It helped that the kryptonite was already taking effect.

“With you dead,” Superman hissed. Bruce whipped around and rolled aside to dodge a blast of heat-vision. Panting lightly, he withdrew several more kryptonite-tipped batarangs and threw them in quick succession. All but one hit their mark. Superman groaned before blasting the on-coming batarang into a molten puddle. “You’ve betrayed me for the last time, Bruce.”

“Sorry, Superman, but _I’m_ not the traitor here.”

Bruce ducked, but the other man managed to grab the edge of his cape. Superman shakily rose several inches into the air. Soon they were hurtling in a straight line up, up, up, so quickly that Bruce’s eyes watered, and his chest felt compressed. “If you had only _listened to me_ —”

“And what? Become your right hand? Your yes man? Your _lapdog_? You can’t blame me for this, Kal— I was loyal! I tried to help you, keep you from doing things you’d regret. And you rejected my advice at every turn. What more could you have expected?” Bruce snarled.

“It’s because of _you_ , Bruce! All of it—” Superman roared, vision going red with rage. Bruce punched him in the face abruptly, cutting off the speech.

With a jerky motion, he brought his gauntlet up, cut through his cape, and activated the grapple. He fell for a few seconds. Then with a sharp tug at his shoulder, the line wrapped around Superman’s ankle, and Bruce used the momentum to fling himself upwards. Kal-El had just begun to refocus and so was caught off guard as Bruce swung in an arc above him, released his hold on the grapple, and dove back down. Batman wrapped his legs around Superman’s torso, hurtling them down several feet, and held onto the Kryptonian’s shoulders with his kryptonite-covered hands. Superman became increasingly dizzy. Then he felt the abrasive rush of air as gravity finally took hold.

They fell.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“Can you truly not see how far you have fallen?” Diana cried, angry at the sight of a Wonder Woman so evil as well as blind to it.

Wonder Woman stood shakily, wiped the blood from her split lip, and spat. “No,” she insisted, “it is you who is _blind_ , imposter. You have led our sisters astray, interfered in something you have no place to!” With a yell, the Regime’s second-in-command charged. “Now die!”

Diana dove aside just in time. They were in downtown D.C., and she was attempting to lead her alternate away from the city center. All around them, the streets echoed with the cries of battling Amazons. _What a terrible thing to hear_ , she thought. With a shake of her head, Diana forced herself to refocus. Wonder Woman had turned around and looked about ready to fly at her again. “No,” Diana realized, horrified, “You have hidden the truth from yourself.” She readied her lasso.

As the other Wonder Woman attacked, Diana flung the lasso and magically ensnared the fallen Amazon Princess. “Diana, Princess of Themyscira, the lasso compels you: see the truth!”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

He groaned, coughing at the taste of concrete dust that coated his tongue. Superman blearily looked around and through hazy double-vision spotted the glowing atrocity. It was one of Batman’s kryptonite knuckles. He staggered to his feet and kicked it away. As soon as his head stopped pounding as badly, he spun on his feet, searching for—

Batman groaned and Kal watched as he slowly pushed himself up. Evidently, he wasn’t the only one to have landed poorly. Although Bruce had banked on the benefits of super pills, they weren’t enough because he was clearly injured. Kal sneered and shakily managed to hover a few centimeters in the air. He stumbled to the ground a few inches away from Batman and aimed a foot at his ribs. Bruce grunted at the impact but managed to roll away, staggering to his feet.

He swayed for a moment, pulse pounding sickeningly in Kal’s ears before he apparently regained his senses. “Damn,” he grunted matter-of-factly, “was hoping that you’d be out longer. And that I’d wake first.” He brought his fists up.

Superman floated into the air— still shakily, but steadily enough for this. “Sorry to disappoint you. Again.” Then he flung himself forward at Batman, kryptonite be damned. Bruce had always told him to use his head rather than rely on strength in a fight, well, he’d fight smart then.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Wonder Woman let out a sharp cry as the lasso glowed, beginning to work on her. Diana gritted her teeth and dug in her heels as the other Amazon managed to pull her forward several feet. But it was not enough to escape. “Are you happy now, Diana?” she asked. “Is this what you wanted when you agreed to help Kal-El? Tell me: has the Regime been good to our sisters?”

“NO!” Wonder Woman exclaimed, thrashing. She fell to her knees and the concrete cracked beneath her. Then the Amazon opened her now-glistening eyes and glared at Diana.

Unable to tell if that was a general protest or answer, Diana demanded: “Answer me!” The lasso glowed so brightly that she had to look away for a moment.

Wonder Woman let out a sob. “No, I am _not_ happy! I did not envision this when I agreed to hel-help Kal-El. I wanted to create a better world, Diana. One without the prejudices of Man’s old one, and… and—” she inhaled a shuddery breath, then spoke more quietly. “The Regime has not been good to our sisters. Wh-when the Gods came and turned against us— during Poseidon’s attack… we have lost nearly everything. This is not what I wanted.”

The lasso’s glow slowly faded, and Wonder Woman with it. Her head bowed to her chest, hair falling over her face, concealing it. Diana grimaced, then stepped forward hesitantly to— she wasn’t sure what. Offer solace? Ask for help? But it didn’t matter, because Wonder Woman suddenly looked up, eyes gleaming. There was a frightening spark in them, and for a moment Diana did not recognize the face before her, even if it was her own. “But I can still make this right,” Other-Diana said, mostly to herself. The lasso’s glow increased but seemingly did not detect a lie.

“What do you mean, sister?” Diana asked apprehensively, preparing for another struggle.

Her alternate suddenly leapt to her feet and jumped backward. Diana was pulled forward and subsequently headbutted. In her momentary daze, Diana’s grip slackened. It was enough for the fallen Amazon to release herself— evidently, the lasso of truth worked for _any_ version of Wonder Woman— and step back, flexing her muscles. Just as Diana regained her senses, Wonder Woman kicked her in the gut and sent her hurtling through the air. She landed with breath-stealing force fifty feet away and could only watch as her alternate flew off.

Panting, Diana slowly got to her feet. “Bruce,” she said hurriedly into her comm., “I’ve lost Wonder Woman. She might be headed your way!” There was no reply. “Bruce!” Frowning sharply, Diana shook her head and hurled herself into the air, intent on following Wonder Woman’s trail, wherever it led. She had a terrible feeling about her alternate’s intentions.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Bruce had one kryptonite weapon left as far as he could tell, and who knew how long the super pill he’d taken would last. _All_ _I really need to do is stall him_. Superman used his freeze-breath to create a patch of ice on the concrete beneath Batman’s feet, then his ensuing imbalance to get in close and crush the kryptonite knuckles. Bruce shouted as his hand-bones creaked and struggled to break free. As he did, Kal plucked the damaged weapon from his hand and hurled it into the Bay. Then he smiled. “You were right, Bruce. I should fight with my head more often.”

Before Batman had time to react, Superman pulled his fist back and punched Bruce as hard as he could— unfortunately still not at full strength thanks to the kryptonite, but it’d wear off soon enough. He floated upwards and used his x-ray vision to peer through the cloud of dust Bruce’s impact— with a building apparently— had created. He was probably unconscious and buried beneath the rubble still.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

“Kara…” Bruce wheezed dazedly, blinking open his eyes. He coughed, feeling an uncomfortable pressure on his lungs. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like anything was broken, but it was only a matter of time until either the super pill wore off or the kryptonite did. As more of his senses returned, Bruce noticed that he was lying atop a pile of rubble, with some of it still _on_ him. He cursed. Then Kal-El’s slightly-blurry face appeared above him and he felt himself being lifted up.

“My cousin isn’t going to save you this time, Bruce. No one will. It’s just you and me in the end after all. Isn’t that how you always wanted it? Batman, the lone hero, facing off against the alien tyrant.” Superman chuckled. “It’d make a good story if I let anyone tell it once the One Earth government is back in place.”

The Kryptonian’s hands came up and wrapped around Bruce’s neck. He gurgled, struggling against the hold. Kal-El laughed. But suddenly, a bright flash of gold cut across his vision. “Stop!”

Superman snarled as his hands began to bleed, dropping Batman in his surprise. Bruce lay there, gasping, before he was pulled away by Wonder Woman. Kal was about to take flight in pursuit when the lasso wrapped around his wrist once more. Wonder Woman set Batman’s nearly-limp form behind her and yanked.

Superman glared, eyes turned dangerously red. “Let me go, Diana!”

“What about justice, Kal?”

“What?” He blinked, confused.

“What about justice?” she repeated, eyes hard. “You told me that this was about _justice_ , Superman. Gods help me, I believed in you. I supported you. My sisters _died_ for your cause, Kal-El. Tell me: is it still about justice now?” Ah, so it was _his_ Diana then. And she’d apparently decided to turn traitor. No matter.

Superman blinked again, intent on saying… _something_ , but felt an intense burning sensation begin beneath his skin as the lasso compelled him. “No,” he heard himself reply distantly. “This is revenge.” Kal snarled and tried vainly to pry the lasso off. _I don’t have time for this!_ Diana sighed, looking smaller, somehow, though she still held herself with determination. The Amazon also managed to maintain her hold on him.

With a sudden boom, the other world’s Superman and his cousin arrived, temporarily distracting Wonder Woman and Kal-El from their feud. But the additional Kryptonians ignored them, flying straight to Batman’s side. Clark pressed a hand to his earpiece, then spoke hurriedly into it. Kara appeared to be saying something to Batman and held one of his gloved hands in hers.

With a cough, Bruce turned to look at the on-going confrontation and met Kal’s eyes. Superman floated off the ground, eyes starting to glow. A sharp tug on the lasso made him refocus on Wonder Woman. Diana met his gaze, seemingly calm save for the pinched lines around her eyes.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, Kal-El?”

“I don’t need to justify my actions to _you_ ,” he spat.

“Well then...” Wonder Woman said sadly, sighing. “I have been a fool. An utter _fool_.” She glanced back at Batman. “Forgive me.”

Kal growled, having had just about enough of this. Diana planted her feet and pulled on the lasso. She did not use her full strength, but then, she didn’t have to. Between his exposure to kryptonite and the lasso’s magic, Superman was weak. He stumbled forward, hearing Bruce hoarsely shout, “Diana, _no_!” as well as a blade being drawn.

 _Oh_ , Kal thought, glancing down at the bloody sword that suddenly pierced his chest.

He took one wheezing breath and felt a hot dribble of blood leak from his mouth. Then his heart lurched, jolted out a few more disordered beats, and stopped. Diana released her grip on the sword and Kal fell sideways. He lay there, limply. A pool of blood spread rapidly from his wound. Then Superman’s previously surprised expression slackened. His eyelids twitched once more before his gaze went slack and glassy.

There was a moment of utter silence.

Unnoticed by all, Batman, Flash, and Dinah arrived via teleport. Other-Diana landed too, regrouping with the others. They froze in shock as they took in the scene before them. Bruce had half-shaken off his helpers and sat up, supporting his weight with one arm. He stared past Wonder Woman at Superman’s body, distinctly pale. Then Clark, looking grim, rose into the air and roughly pushed Diana back, pulling her bloodied sword from her grasp. He dropped it with a clatter and held her hands behind her back.

As they walked by, Diana met Bruce’s dazed blue gaze. “It’s over now,” she said seriously.

“Shut up,” Clark muttered disgustedly, tugging her away. 

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

As soon as Superman led Wonder Woman away, the remaining heroes seemed to collectively undergo a moment of hesitation. Some hovered beside Bruce, who still breathed loud and raspily, but was otherwise eerily silent. These included Diana, Kara, and Batman. Flash, Supergirl, and Black Canary had moved several few feet away, but often glanced at Kal-El’s still body.

“Someone should deal with…” Barry muttered lowly, trailing off.

“But where are we going to—” Dinah cast her gaze anxiously back towards Bruce— “ _put_ _the body?_ ” she finished quietly.

Kara looked up, evidently having been eavesdropping. She squeezed Bruce’s shoulder once more and floated over to their group. “We could us-use the Fortress?” she suggested shakily. “Unless it got destroyed during the fight.” Her gaze strayed to her cousin’s body, expression turning faintly nauseated.

Dinah placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll check with Supergirl and the others.”

The sound of someone approaching made the heroes look up. It was Batman. Bruce and Diana were gone. “Wonder Woman took him to get medical attention,” Other-Bruce clarified stiffly. “Have you decided where to put— the body?”

“The Fortress,” Canary said. There were no objections.

Batman nodded evenly, showing no outward signs of discomfort. “I’ll take care of it.”

He and Flash moved the body while Kara destroyed the leftover pool of blood— none of them wanted to take any chances of Superman’s DNA being misused— while Dinah radioed ahead to make sure their solution was viable. When Black Canary received confirmation that it was, the others left. For now, she and Flash were in charge of coordinating the various heroes and keeping them up to date.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

They made the announcement of Superman’s death three days later.

 _He_ didn’t make it— that task had been left to the Insurgency’s other leaders and the Justice League’s alternates— because the words, “Superman is dead” felt too small for the momentous reality they described. For the way they caused his reality to veer sharply off its previously ordered road. And their permanence caused an upheaval of emotions in Bruce that he could not control. Every time he thought them, a trembling began at his very core.

This wasn’t like before when Clark could just laugh off a near-miss, or that one time which he actually _had_ come back… No, there would be no miracles this time. Clark Kent was dead. Diana in prison for her previous crimes as well as her act of murder. The Justice League, Regime, and Insurgency disbanded permanently. And Superman’s death meant that there was no chance for his redemption, however marginal and minute that possibility had been.

The minuscule part of Bruce that had secretly been hoping for such a redemption shattered.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Two days later, the members of the other Justice League announced they were leaving. Unlike the rest of the Cave, the portal device had been largely undamaged, so they’d been able to repair it with few problems. But Bruce’s chest felt tight anyway as he watched Supergirl walk up to the machine and disappear into it. Diana was next.

Despite himself, Bruce flinched away from her touch as she reached a hand towards him. Thankfully, she appeared to be understanding about this. So instead of being upset at his apparent rejection, Wonder Woman withdrew her hand, met his eyes, and smiled sadly. “I won’t soon forget this, Bruce, and I expect that you will not either… May the coming days bring recovery and peace— for you and your world both.”

Bruce steeled his nerves and clutched Diana’s forearm before she could move forward. She turned back, curious. Ignoring his thrumming heartbeat, he squeezed her arm, then moved his hand to her shoulder. “Thank you for your help, Diana. I wish the same for you.” He released her and stepped back.

Diana smiled again, with less sadness this time. “Goodbye, my friend.” She walked up to the portal and vanished, leaving only Clark behind.

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

Bruce swallowed again, feeling a growing pressure in his chest and a lump in his throat. There was a burning wetness in his eyes that he refused to acknowledge. He blinked it away, exhaling shakily. However, it seemed that Clark was not unaffected either. The Kryptonian was frowning, eyes downcast, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. _He looks sad_. Bruce sucked in a shaky breath, crushing his lips together to keep his emotions in check. As he did, Clark’s bottom lip trembled and he finally looked up.

Clark’s gaze was affectionate and a good deal sad. He smiled at Bruce, sending another jolt through him. Behind them, the portal flashed and must have been thrumming lowly. But neither man heard it, both too busy staring at the other, taking him in for the last time. Someone sniffed. Bruce honestly couldn’t say which of them it had been. “You know where to find me if you… ever need to talk,” Clark said softly.

Bruce blinked as his friend’s form, backlit by the portal, went blurry. He cleared his throat. “I do.” There was another moment of grief-filled silence. The tightness in his chest increased. Bruce felt like he needed to punch something or scream. Clark was still staring at him, eyes _definitely_ tear-filled now. He opened his arms as soon as he saw he had Bruce’s attention. For once, Bruce went without protest.

The hug was firm, but gentle, with all the promise of Superman’s strength but none of its threat of violence. In short, it was exactly how _his_ Clark had once hugged him during those rare instances that Bruce had allowed it. Clark didn’t even protest when Bruce was slow to hug back, nor when he suddenly pressed his face into the crook of the other man’s neck and squeezed him tightly. 

Inhaling shakily, Bruce gathered his resolve and wiped his eyes. “Goodbye, Kal.”

Superman smiled as he slowly stepped into the portal. “Goodbye, Bruce.”

**~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~ / | \ ~-~-~**

**One Month Later:**

Bruce barely glanced at the decrepit farmhouse as he walked past it. The peeling paint, cracked trim, and sagging porch all felt far too achingly familiar to be comforting. The porch swing creaked and swayed slightly in the breeze. Despite not looking at the house, its ghosts danced before his eyes anyway. He swallowed and the breeze turned piercing against the sharp prickling in his eyes. _Fuck_.

Since Kal-El’s death, his legacy had become as complicated as Schrodinger’s cat, Bruce realized.

The Kryptonian was terrible, undeniably evil, and yet… he had been a good man once. But most people (justifiably) didn’t see that anymore; the cat had been dumped out of its box to be dissected in the annals of history and then judged for its actions. All the small, kind things that Clark Kent had been would be forgotten or overlooked, like innumerable stars scattered in the void. Now they’d only exist in the incandescent hearts and fading memories of people like Bruce, who had worked hardest to tear Superman down.

In the end, what had once mattered most to Bruce would not matter at all to the world.

It was a good thing, in some ways— that Superman’s brutality would serve as a warning for future generations. But personally, it felt like a terrible loss, an ugly, brutal erasure. Like something had been torn from inside him. How could one mourn the man who was as awful as Kal-El but who’d _also_ once been Clark Kent? Bruce couldn’t publicly show his uncertainty about this issue, not if he wanted the right message to be spread about the Regime.

However, as Dinah had told him, it was impossible to run from one’s feelings. So he would keep the truth of his feelings to himself, but not try to deny that he _was_ grieving. If only momentarily, Bruce would give himself time to remember Clark how he wanted to remember him if not how he’d actually been at the end… Bruce swallowed thickly and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets to stop his fingers from biting into his palms.

Although he knew this path by heart and could walk it blind, Bruce looked up to distract himself. He regretted it instantly. Kansas had never appealed to him. This was mostly because of its emptiness, flatness, and sameness. That was true now. While he was still a good distance from the small private graveyard, its headstones— the _new_ headstone— were all too visible. He swallowed again and his footsteps seemed terribly loud as they crunched on gravel and rasped over dead wheat. His heart beat terribly quick and his breathing was awfully shallow as well.

The gleaming, white headstone was like a powerful and irresistible magnet, compelling him to walk forward. Bruce reached the grave and blinked, dazed. The epithet undid him.

“What in me is dark   
Illumin, what is low raise and support;    
That to the highth of this great Argument   
I may assert Eternal Providence,   
And justifie the wayes of God to men”   
— _Paradise Lost_ , Book I: 22 – 26

With a great, tired sigh, Bruce sat, barely noticing the grass and cold dirt that stained his pants. _I’ve seen too many graves_. _Too many goddamned graves_ , he thought. “Too many, Clark. Entirely too many. Including yours.” Bruce sighed again. The cool stone was silent. Bruce ran his free hand absently through the prickly grass, shivering a bit from the cold. Yet another reason he hated Kansas. Abruptly, Bruce chuckled.

“I thought you’d like to be back home. But I remember the first time you brought me here, that _argument_ we got into when I refused to see the merit of Kansas. Even now I don’t understand why you brought me to the farm in August.” Absently, he looked up at the now darkening sky. _Looks like a snowstorm_. “Well… I should get going; I have a lot to do, as usual. I’ll try to send Kara by later. See you around, Clark.”

Bruce stood slowly and placed a hand lightly atop the stone for a moment. Then he turned and walked away, mind already preoccupied with the tasks Batman had back in Gotham as well as the people awaiting his safe return. He didn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Now with absolutely _gorgeous_ [art](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EtLEASBUUAIUgcM?format=jpg&name=900x900) by @Lauryn.artist (on Instagram). Check it out!


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